The Center

Freezing in the afternoon breeze

The setting sun changes the colour

Of the city giving an illusion of ancient

History that didn’t exist

The calm, slick atmosphere of the

Administrative building

So frustrating in its denial

And lack of a soul

Promises a future

That is doomed and fears

For it’s own shadow

I am that shadow

Raging Fear

Fear is a terrible feeling

It hunts you down at night

Mixing memories and anticipation

Keeping you awake in agony

Agonising and reflecting

What you should have done

All those mixes of unclarity

To no use

Traps

Trapped in between

What once was

And

What is going to be

I drop my mind, prejudice and thinking

Meeting my demons at the door

Alone facing the nightmare of

Bad existence

Love is not

Hate is not

But I am

Bad Times

Dying city

Decaying city

Filled with rich filth

Destroying the mind and body

Slowly burning city

Falling apart at dusk

Armed men

Guarding cautiously and attaching their guns to their frail bodies

In case of other frail men trying to take what little gold

They might have

No cash has any worth any more

Only handouts of food and water

And of course the eternal metal

Shining so bright in our dirty hands

Scheme

Illusions are great

I am making

A Ponzi scheme

For myself borrowing

Resources of the future

In the vain hope of getting

My life back later

It is working at the moment